


Point That Wand at Me and See What Happens

by widdlewed



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Age changes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Crossover, Damian being a little shit, Damian terrorizing the wizarding world, Dick being a little shit, Dick's ass, Fluff, Funny, Harry Potter is getting tired of everything, Humor, I'll try to be funny, JFC, Multi, OOC, character angst, character out of character, characters not their canon ages, daddy!Bats, his perfect ass, seriously have you seen it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-05-10 14:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5589103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/widdlewed/pseuds/widdlewed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During Harry Potter's fourth year, Hogwarts gained two new additions to its hallways that no one will soon forget. Damian Wayne is feared to be the next Dark Lord rising while Dick Grayson gains a fanbase larger than Professor Lockhart. Between dealing with dreams of Voldemort and the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Harry doesn't have time to deal with alter-ego heroes and the drama they bring with them. </p><p>Also, what the fuck is up with the rumors of Professor Grayson's ass?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Is that an owl?

Muggles were never supposed to get involved in the world of magic. I repeat: Muggles were never supposed to get involved in the world of magic. Wizards and witches learned very quickly that Muggles reacted negatively to their...abilities. Because of the dark history between magic folk and muggles (I’m looking at you, Salem Witch Trials), it became law that muggles could not find out about magic. 

“Have you gone mad, sir?” Severus Snape was not one to beat around the bush. “Bringing muggles into the school? Has old age finally driven you senile?”

Albus Dumbledore laughed good-heartedly - choking a bit near the end much to the amusement of Snape - and patted Snape’s arm.

“Severus, my good boy, I am perfectly in my right mind,” Albus chuckled. “In fact, I think I am more in my mind than I have been for years.”

“But sir,” Minerva McGonagall chimed in, “why are you bringing muggles into the school?”

“Only one of them is a muggle, actually. The other is a child who, until recently, was hidden from our radar. The other will be acting as the teacher for our new class.”

“...what class?” Both professors asked, dread weighing their words down.

“Muggle Defense! Isn’t that wonderful?” Albus clapped his hands together, his eyes twinkling like the stars outside. Severus resisted the urge to strangle the old man while Minerva mentally counted backwards from one-hundred.

“How,” Severus snarled, “did you even get the Ministry to approve of such a stupid idea?”

“I have my ways,” Albus chuckled and the way he stared at Severus let them both know that the discussion was over.

“So,” Minerva smoothed her hands over her robes, “Muggle Defense, was it? What do you plan on having this professor teach for this class?”

“Oh, I was thinking self-defense! The children must learn how to combat against enemies if they are rendered without their wands. With the increase of Voldemort activity and, ahem, certain events happening soon, I feel the students should learn how to fend for themselves wandless,” Albus explained and Severus grimly looked at the desk top, clenching his left robe sleeve where his Dark Mark burned.

“I...actually agree with you,” Severus bit out, eyes narrowed. “It is wise for the students to take such a class.” Minerva nodded in agreement and Albus clapped his hands again.

“Who is the student, sir?” Severus asked after a silence fell over the trio.

“Damian Wayne, son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul,” Albus informed. Minerva, who had been reaching for her teacup, let her hand fall to her lap in alarm.

“Talia al Ghul? As in Ra’s al Ghul’s daughter?” Minerva gasped while Severus narrowed his eyes. Bruce Wayne was someone who even the magic folk had heard of, if only because of his playboy tendencies that seemed to even cause Pureblood witches to gossip about. Talia al Ghul, however…

Al Ghul was a name to be wary of in the Wizarding World. Rumors of Ra’s al Ghul’s 600-plus life span thanks to his infamous Lazarus Pit spread throughout the realm, making the man someone to be feared. It wasn’t the closest thing to the Fountain of Youth, which many witches and wizards had staked their lives for. They abhorred the idea of a mere muggle controlling the Pit, but with how powerful and influential he was, he was nearly untouchable.

“And the professor who’ll be joining our staff?” Minerva questioned as the information settled in.

“Richard Grayson. He’s well-known for his self-defense. In the Muggle World, he’s a police officer,” Albus spoke and his two trusted friends sat back, satisfied with the knowledge.

“I feel like this year is going to be a headache,” Severus mumbled under his breath. Minerva couldn’t help but agree. 

“I hope you two don’t mind,” Albus spoke as they heard the staircase moving to allow someone up. “I’m needing to speak with Professor Moody now.” The two nodded and excused themselves, allowing the new DADA teacher through. 

* * *

 

“Grayson! Father! Someone!” Damian Wayne, freshly turned eleven, called out in a tone that was tense. 

“Damian, it’s, like, five in the mor -IT THAT AN OWL?!” Dick, who was slumped through the door to Damian’s room, nearly toppled over in shock as he caught sight of the feathered nocturnal bird perched on Damian’s bed frame.

“Wonderful Grayson,” Damian sneered as Bruce and Alfred popped up behind the younger man, peering into the room, “you know your animals.” Dick gave a dry, mocking laugh as the three older men bustled further into the room.

“It won’t go away,” Damian explained as Bruce raised an eyebrow at the owl.

“How did it get in?” Dick questioned as Alfred eyed the floor for owl droppings.

“I don’t know. I woke up and it was staring at me.” Damian stared at the owl. “Can I-”

“You cannot keep it. Nope. Nu-uh,” Dick chided before Bruce could open his mouth. Damian huffed and crossed his eyes. The owl hooted and fluttered up, circling once before dropped the letter clenched in its talon. Bruce swooped down and grasped the letter before anyone else could, flipping it to read the front of it.

“Damian al Ghul Wayne, fifth bedroom, Wayne Manor,” Bruce read off and narrowed his eyes. He flipped it back over, seeing the seal. Bruce mentally went through the list of seals he knew, not recognising the one on the envelope.

“This isn’t a commonly known seal. At least, none used in the Underground,” Bruce explained and Alfred stepped to the side as the owl circled around Bruce and landed back on the bed frame with an irritated sounding hoot.

“Let me open it,” Damian spoke, holding his hand out expectantly. “It’s addressed to me, so I’ll open it.” Dick opened his mouth, looking ready to chide the child, before Bruce thrust the envelope into the boy’s hand.

“But Bruce, what if it’s-!” Dick complained as Damian violently ripped through the wax seal and pulled the contents out.

Damian stared at the letter, his eyebrows slowly rising as he read silently.

“What’s it say?” Bruce asked and Damian handed the letter over without a word. Alfred took the parchment, clearing his throat as he stared down at the inked words.

“‘Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore. Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards. Dear Mr. Wayne, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on the first of September. We await your owl by no later than July the thirty-first. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.’” Alfred flipped to the second page, blinking at the list.

“It’s fine Alfred. We’ll look at the rest of the stuff later,” Bruce dismissed and looked to Damian, who was glowering at Dick, who was trying hard not to laugh.

“This has to be fake,” Dick laughed, moving to Bruce’s other side as Damian threw a knife.

“Master Richard, you have a letter as well,” Alfred called and Dick stopped laughing, turning to look at the trusted butler.

“Huh?” Dick reached for the letter, taking it. “‘We would also like to invite Richard Grayson to attend this year as our newest addition to our teaching staff. Muggle Defensive Arts.’...what. A teacher? Me? Uh...Bruce?” Both Damian and Dick looked to the father figure in the room, who tensed at the intense attention.

“I don’t know,” Bruce spoke, rubbing his chin. “It could be an elaborate trap. I say we write back and ask for proof.”

They did just that.

 

* * *

As it turned out, the proof came in the form of a powerful looking woman who called herself Minerva McGonagall. She introduced herself as a professor at the school they wished both Damian and Dick to attend and, much to her reluctance, had used a bit of magic to prove that Hogwarts was indeed real.

Bruce was more or less intrigued. Alfred wondered if he could use the cleaning charm she demonstrated.

“So, will we be expecting you at Hogwarts, gentleman?” Minerva asked as she pocketed her wand.

The two turned to Bruce, who eyed her with a stern expression. Minerva stared back, mentally wondering how this overprotective man was the infamous playboy who had more money than he could count.

“They’ll be safe?” Bruce asked after a beat of silence. Minerva nodded at once.

“Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the Wizarding World,” she admitted, her chest puffing out in pride. Bruce nodded thoughtfully.

“I’ll seem them during the holiday breaks?” Bruce questioned. Minerva nodded again.

“Yes. Unless they wish to stay at the castle, of course,” she responded. Damian snorted. Dick rubbed the back of his neck.

“I guess they can go,” Bruce finally relented and Dick whooped in joy.

“Aw come on!”

Minerva jumped at the sudden exclamation and a young teenager dropped from the ceiling, landing in a crouch beside Bruce. 

“That isn’t fair! Why does the demon brat get to go and I don’t?” Tim whined, pointing disgustedly towards Damian, who raised a knife threateningly.

“Because unlike _some_ people,” Damian sneered, “I have magic.”

“You a _fairy_?” Tim shot back and quickly dodged the knife thrown at him. Minerva watched the boys fight, wondering what Albus was thinking. 

She felt this year was going to be hell.


	2. He's in WHAT House?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian gets sorted into his house and Hogwarts can feel the change starting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fast update. Had to get this out of the way. Enjoy.

“I swear,” Damian seethed, grumbling under his breath, “when I get to that stupid magic school I’m punching their stupid magic faces.” Dick, standing beside the stewing child, could only hum as he looked around the bustling train station. 

“I dunno, Lil’ D. I think our trip to England has been good so far! I mean, it’s not everyday we can face-time Jason with the Big Ben as our background, now is it?” Dick asked as he subtly moved Damian out of the way of a waddling man who seemed to be rushing. Damian made a face at the mention of the ‘face-time’.

“If you ever mention that again, I’ll kill you. Now, Platform nine-three-quarters….what the hell,” Damian deadpanned, looking to see Platform 9 and Platform 10. Nothing in between. He wanted to stab someone.

Many people passing through King’s Cross gave a wide berth as the child began to get red in the face, a sickeningly dark aura surrounding him and the smiling man with the really tight ass (you couldn’t blame anyone for staring. The man had a nice ass and those jeans really worked in his favor).

Bruce had decided to take the two to London a few weeks earlier, declaring they needed a vacation. Tim, moodily, had all but forced himself to stay home with Jason and the girls in a spike of teenage rebellion. The fact that Kon-El couldn’t come also contributed to his choice of staying in Gotham. During their stay in one of the nicest hotels London had to offer, they stumbled upon a wizard who happened to be leaving London for Jump City (something about trade deals). The kind wizard, out of the goodness of his heart, made the mistake of offering to take Damian to Diagon Alley for his school supplies.

Poor soul dropped Damian off at the end of the day sobbing about ‘demonic You-Know-Who mini children’ and left through the hotel room’s fireplace (why there was a fireplace, none of the nocturnal men questioned).

“Are you looking for Platform nine three-quarters?”

Dick and Damian turned to the teenager standing before them. His jet black hair was fluffy and looked like it had never known the touch of a brush and his shocking green eyes looked wide and bug-eyed behind his outdated round spectacles. He smiled helpfully at the two, Damian’s eyes trailing up to his lighting-bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

“Yeah we are, actually!” Dick spoke before Damian could sneer at the teen and the boy gave a confused look at the adult.

“Uh...right. Because you’re sending him off, right?” The boy asked and Dick was the one to express and confused look.

“Uh, no. I need to ride the train too,” Dick explained and the boy’s confused expression scrunched up into one of alarm.

“Muggles aren’t allowed at Hogwarts,” the boy spoke as if repeating rules.

“I’m a professor,” Dick shot back while Damian tapped his foot impatiently.

“O-oh! I’m sorry Professor,” the boy said and turned to the brick pillar in between the two platforms. “Here. This way.”

The two watched in silent fascination as the boy rushed at the pillar and disappeared through it, the bricks rippling like disturbed water.

"Of course,” Damian grumbled, “it had to be as  _ simple _ as that.” He rushed at the pillar, hands gripping his cart tightly. His muscles tensed in reflex as the bricks came closer and Damian had to stop himself from squeezing his eyes shut at the thought of a painful impact. He heard the whistle of a train and looked to see a crimson and black train before him, smoke wafting in the air. He twitched as Dick’s hand landed on his shoulder and he looked to see Dick staring at the train in awe.

“Uh, Professor?”

The two looked to the teenager again. He stiffened at their fast reactions. “This way to get onto the trains. You can leave your cart over there. Keep your robe with you to change on in the train.” Dick and Damian trotted after the teen, who received weird looks from the children his age or a year or so younger. The very young ones, most likely first years like Damian, opened gapped at the boy in awe. At least, some of them did.

Dick and Damian got onto the train without much trouble. There was a very brief incident of Damian knocking shoulders with some blonde child who sneered at Damian, only to falter when Damian gave him  _ the stare _ . Besides that, they made it into a compartment safely. The black haired teen accompanied them, snickering to himself about Damian ‘shutting up Malfoy’. Dick could only assume the two teens had bad blood.

“I’m Harry, by the way,” Harry introduced, holding a hand out. Dick took it, shaking his hand with a polite smile.

“I’m Dick. Dick Grayson. My charge is Damian,” Dick introduced, pointing to Damian, who huffed and crossed his arms as he stared out the train window. Harry nodded, dropping Dick’s hand as the compartment door opened and revealed a red headed boy and a bushy haired girl.

“Harry! Why did you...separate from...us…?” The redhead eyed Damian and Dick warily while the girl huffed at Harry. Harry shrugged his shoulders, giving a sheep grin.

“Sorry,” he laughed, “I had to use the loo and ended up showing Professor Grayson and Damian here how to get to the train,” Harry spoke and the two new children turned to Dick, who waved. 

“You must be Professor Grayson. You are the first muggle teacher ever to teach at Hogwarts,” the female spoke as slid into the bench beside Harry across from Dick and Damian.

“How the bloody ‘ell you already know this?” The redheaded asked, looking flabbergasted. The female rolled her eyes and pointed to the other boy.

“This is Ron and I’m Hermione,” Hermione introduced and stared at Damian. “Do you know which house you may be sorted in?” Damian glanced at the girl, his eyes gleaming as he took in her tone. A know-it-all. He could deal.

“What’s a muggle and what are these houses?” Dick questioned as Damian turned his attention back to the window. Harry and Ron gave very loud and dramatic moans as Hermione brightened up.

One history lesson later and the group somehow got to Hogwarts in what seemed like  _ no time  _ (note the sarcasm). Damian, at the last of his rope, finally snapped when Hermione opened her mouth to speak more.

“Shut up, you harlot!” Damian growled. The compartment went silent as Hermione’s face flushed.

“H-harlot!” Hermione cried. “How dare you call me a harlot!” Dick quickly got in between the two, soothing Hermione down and also smacking Damian over the head. Harry and Ron shared twin shrugs, wondering what a harlot was.

“Damian, what have I said about calling girls harlots?” Dick scolded as the group bustled off the train. Many students casted looked at the odd pair, most ignoring them in favor of rushing to the castle doors.

“Apologize to Ms. Granger or you won’t be patrolling for a whole month when we get back,” Dick threatened and Damian narrowed his eyes. He glared at Hermione and mumbled a rushed apology. The older girl huffed and, after a moment to stare the younger boy down, accepted the apology.

Soon Dick was whisked away by Professor Snape (Damian only learned his name because the Weasley boy couldn’t stop complaining about him) and Damian was left alone as a huge man (Hagrid) herded the first years to the castle doors.

Damian and the group of first years were led through the castle hallways. Damian had to admit, the moving portraits and shifting staircases were pretty wicked. He wondered if he could bring some moving portraits home to the mansion or turn some of their own family portraits into moving ones. He could just imagine turning his grandparents’ portrait into a moving one before he scrapped the idea. Bruce would never leave his study then. He’d just stare at the portrait until his last breath.

Damian shook himself from his thoughts as Minerva, who was leading the group, spoke up. “Once we go into the Grand Hall, you will wait for your name to be called before being sorted into your house.” The mass of first years broke into whispers and idle chatter as the wooden doors to the Grand Hall opened up. The group walked in, taking in the floating candles and all-around gothic feel of the Hall.

“Arsle, Katherine,” Minerva called and a mousy looking girl stepped up and sat down on the stool as an aged looking hat was settled on her head. Damian shifted his weight onto his left leg as he crossed his arms, eyes roaming the entire Hall. Dick was sitting up with the rest of the Professors and Damian let his eye lock onto a pair of annoyingly twinkling blue eyes. The old man merrily staring back smiled and nodded his head to Damian. Damian quickly looked away and tuned out the various names and cheers echoing around the Hall.

Finally, it was his turn.

“Wayne, Damian,” Minerva called out and Damian stepped up, his eyes half-lidding in boredom as he felt the weight of the hat rest upon his head.

Everyone was respectfully silent as they stared at Damian. Many of the older students couldn’t help but assume, from the way the child held himself and looked, that he’d be sorted into Slytherin. He walked with a regal air, as if he were better than everyone else. He looked and acted like a snobbish pureblood, with his groomed black hair and flawless tan skin.

Some sixth year girls from the Hufflepuff table couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of the short first year, seeing as how his feet dangled as he sat on the stool. Damian stared at them, the heat of the glare shutting the giggles right up. Damian heard Dick clear his throat from the Professors’ table and muttered ‘tt’ under his breath.

_ “Well, never had a child like you before,”  _ a voice spoke through Damian’s mind and Damian, who had been forewarned by Hermione, didn’t even flinch at the Hat’s word. He felt his mind being poked and prodded at, imaging long, slender fingers made of transparent smoke shuffling through his memories. It was uncomfortable, Damian had to admit, the moment he felt the intrusion in his mind.

_ “Genetically created boy. That’s a first. Was raised by assassins...you are surprisingly loyal to your father, despite your upbringing.”  _ The Hat mumbled silently to itself as it sifted through Damian’s head.  _ “I know the perfect house to put you in. The house that you will be most suited in is…. _ HUFFLEPUFF!”

Silence met the Hat’s outburst. Dick, sitting at the Professors’ table, burst out laughing and pointed openly at Damian, who processed the house. 

Hufflepuff, that house that Hermione said  _ “was just kind of there _ ”? What the actual fuck.

“Oh well,” Dumbledore chuckled to himself, “how interesting.” Damian slipped off the stool and marched over to the Hufflepuff table, the students scooting away as Damian took his seat with a vocal growl.

The rest of the sorting went on peacefully, the Hufflepuff students silently sobbing as the area around Damian darkened due to his foul mood. Finally the sorting was done and Dumbledore stood up to introduce Dick.

“As you’ve all noticed, we have two new additions to our teaching staff this year. This is Professor Moody and he will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year since Professor Lupin sadly had to resign,” Dumbledore spoke and gestured to Dick. “This is Professor Grayson. He will be teaching Muggle Defensive Arts. He is the first ever Muggle professor to walk these halls so please be mindful and try to give him a warm welcome. Well, without further ado, tuck in!” The students clapped and cheered and Damian just stared as food suddenly appeared on the table in front of him.

“Pennyworth would love that,” he mused aloud as he loaded up a plate, wondering what the orange liquid in his goblet was.

 

* * *

 

Damian glared at nothing as he sat cross-legged on his bed. Already, on the way up, people had been whispering about Dick. Or rather, more annoyingly, Dick’s ass. Damian never understood people's apparent awe and wonderment at the man’s butt. He had asked his father once and Bruce had just gotten a far-away look in his eyes and told Damian never to bring it up again.

Damian never did in fear of seeing that expression again.

“Hufflepuff is all about loyalty and teamwork and family,” a random first year spoke and eyed Damian. “How did Mister Sulk-face get in?”

Damian raised an eyebrow, smirking lopsidedly as the boy signed his death certificate.

“Want to find out?” Damian snapped.

In the end, two seventh years were pulled to the first year dorm room to stop the fight that had broke out. The two older students were more than a little bewildered to find out the poor first year, Nathaniel, had gotten a bloody nose from Damian, who hadn’t even moved from his bed. When questioning the gawking first years, they swore that the shorter of the two had thrown his shoe at Nathaniel and had broken his nose. What scary strength. The two escorted Nathaniel to the Hospital Wing and warned Damian that if he caused any more trouble, he’d be sent to their Head of House. Damian, tempted to break their noses, merely rolled his eyes and drew his curtains shut to signal he was done socializing with people.

Hufflepuff students feared their House was about to change for the worst.


	3. Learn to Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick wants to teach students to fall. Frankly, they think it is an excuse to trip them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Sorry for the long wait. Here is chapter 3. Thank you for your patience and understanding with putting Damian into Hufflepuff. He's going to be struggling with it just as much as you are. Don't worry. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I love you all. Thank you.

“Dude,” Tim whispered grumpily as he crossed his arms, Jason lounging on the couch beside him. “Not cool.” Jason rolled his eyes while messing with his phone. 

“Suck it up, Timmy,” Jason snorted, locking his phone screen. “Just because you didn’t get to go to the special school doesn’t mean you get to whine like a baby. Do I need to call the  _ wambulance? Waa, waa, waa. _ ” Tim just stared straight face at the older male as Jason continued to tease the teen. 

“You’re no fun. Where’s Cas when I need her? She  _ gets  _ me,” Jason huffed. Tim continued his blank mask. 

“Uhg, go find that Superboy or something. You’re making me want to shoot you in the face,” Jason snapped and with a smirk, Tim was gone. Jason shook his head, hands finding their ways to his hips as he wondered what to do now. Maybe Alfred would make him some cookies.

 

* * *

 

 

Damian sat up, blinking slowly at his yellow bedsheets. Uhg. 

Hufflepuff. 

Hufflepuff. The House of dedication, hard work, kindness, loyalty, etc, etc, etc,. Damian felt a tight knot tugging harshly at the pit of his stomach as he clenched his hands together, glaring at his stripped bedcover. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to break something. 

He wanted to demand that the stupid hat was wrong.

He wasn’t...he couldn’t… from what that Granger girl has described about each of the houses, he was sure he’d go into Slytherin. Not Hufflepuff. It didn’t even cross his mind. Now that knowing look Grayson sent him made so much more sense now. 

Was he really more of a Hufflepuff than anything else? Was he honestly to loyal and hard working and...and  _ kind  _ that it seemed to erase everything? Wash it all away, sweep it under the carpet? Was he truly not dragged so far into the darkness of his destiny and pre-chosen paths that he actually had a chance to...chance to…

“Uh, you awake, Wayne?” Damian looked up from his clenched fists, staring at the wavering form of one of his housemates. What was his name? Did he ever even listen when the other boys introduced themselves?  This was making his slack, this House business. 

“Oh, uh, guess you are. Um...want to head down for breakfast now?” The younger boy, all reddish-brown hair and wide, innocent eyes, make Damian think of Colin. 

“What’s your name?” Damian questioned, slipping out of his bed without a single sound. The redhead flushed and rubbed his arm. 

“I’m Aaron. Aaron Peterson,” Aaron introduced and Damian bent down, rummaging through his luggage for fresh robes and undergarments. 

“Damian Wayne, but you know that obviously,” Damian responded and Aaron cracked a small smile, following after Damian as the shorter boy made his way to the bathrooms. 

“So why were you so upset about being in Hufflepuff, Damian?” Aaron asked, curious. Aaron, himself, was the first known wizard on both sides of his family. He had read up on the Houses in  _ Hogwarts: A History _ and was more than ecstatic when he was placed in Hufflepuff. It felt like the highest honor to be in such a family-feeling house. At least, in Aaron’s opinion. So he was slightly baffled to find someone who seemed to be in a such a self-loathing state to be in Hufflepuff.

Damian stopped brushing his teeth and turned to look at Aaron. toothpaste dribbling down his chin slightly as he regarded the redhead. 

“I,” Damian spat the white foam out, “was merely shocked.” 

“Why were you so shocked?” Aaron asked, eyes wide. 

“I never...I never thought…” Damian seemed to struggle with something before he shook his head. “Let’s go eat.” Aaron watched as the boy shoved past him and scurried to put his things up. Aaron let a wide smile engulf his face as he noticed Damian linger near the door leading out of their rooms. He rushed after the shorter Hufflepuff, a bounce in his step as he realized that he had made a friend in the more violent child. 

That was easy. 

 

* * *

 

 

Sometimes Dick worried about Damian. Okay, scratch that, Dick worried about Damian all the time. The youngest winged-one in the brooding family of orphans and messed up teenagers/young adults was worse at making friends than Jason, and that was saying something. 

He couldn’t help but smile into his goblet when he saw his younger brother marching into the Grand Hall, a redhead tagging beside him, chatting happily. Damian looked like he could care less about the boy next to him but Dick saw how the child’s shoulders weren’t tense and his steps were in tune with the other student’s. Aw. Dami found a friend. 

“Don’t they look so cute?” Dick gushed to the closest person to him, who happened to be the misfortune of Professor Moody. Snape hid his smirk as Dick went off in a tangent about his little brother that the other professors could only compare to a mother babbling about her precious child. Poor Professor Moody could only sit their a nod as if he were listening, though the look of dread slowly taking over his expression showed his fear that the Muggle teacher wouldn’t stop. 

“... _ Professor  _ Grayson, I am curious as to what you’ll be teaching in your classes,” Snape suddenly spoke, deciding that he should be the savior of the professor tables least the man suddenly pull out baby photos. 

“Oh! I’m sorry, I just get so worked up when it comes to my children,” Dick explained and the other teachers sents subtle looks of horror at the mention of more than one child. Hopefully they’d only have to hear about the one. 

“I’ll be teaching self defense,” Dick explained and took a sip from his goblet. 

“Like what?” Moody questioned, curious. Before Dick could respond, a butter knife dug into the wood beside his head. Snape and Moody looked in alarm, wands raised, as Dick gave a more than amused chuckle. Was it just McGonagall's imagination or did the man look proud?

“Aw, look at him, showing off! Nice try Dami!” Dick clapped and raised up, plucking the knife from the wood. The professors could only stare. 

“I’ll be teaching them how to do that,” Dick’s eyes glinted, “and then some. “ 

 

* * *

 

Aaron pointed to the various foods that Damian didn’t even know existed, smiling as Damian stared at the foods with a studious intent. 

“So,” Aaron nibbled at the end of a sausage,”the new professor; is he the real deal? I mean, from what I read, he’s the first muggle to ever teach at Hogwarts, let alone be here.” Damian, picking up a piece of sliced fruit, paused in his eating.

“See for yourself,” Damian spoke and Aaron could only watch on with confusion as Damian picked up a stray butter knife, flicking it away with his wrist. Aaron, along with a few other students who had been observing the newest addition to Hufflepuff, could only gap as the knife flew at an impossible speed, embedding into the wood next to Dick’s head. 

“...You missed,” Aaron breathed, awed and scared all at once. He wondered if he could learn to do that knife throwing trick. Did the child use magic? Where was his wand? What spell?

Damian snorted, taking a vicious bite out of some melon as he did so. “Did I?” Damian questioned with a gleam in his eye that made Aaron question his accusation. Aaron looked back over at Professor Grayson, who was gesturing to Damian with a pleased smile on his youthful face. 

Huh. Maybe he’d learn more than knife throwing. 

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione Granger was, above all else, one who prepared for the worst. Knowledge never failed her. So her knowledge would always been her fail-safe, no matter what. That’d never change. Hermione was the one to turn to in cases when knowledge failed other. For example: you lost your quill? Have no fear, Hermione carried, like, fifteen of them in the instance that somehow every other quill she owned mysteriously ceased to exist. You don’t have your notes to study? Chill, Hermione has like, a entire book dedicated to copies of notes because she was under the impression that making numerous copies was something you do. Hermione was the go-to girl for any of your fears because she was always prepared. 

Hermione Granger was not prepared. 

She knew how to punch - Malfoy could attest to that. She had been in self-defense classes before - her father had signed her up when she first began to get bullied. She was quick to respond to an attack, fast to draw her wand and cast a counterspell. She was able to easily read the opponent and determine their next move before the enemy reacted.

But she was not prepared for Professor Grayson’s Defense class. Which was odd, considering all the danger she has encountered over the course of her four years at Hogwarts and her boys didn’t survive each adventure on luck (no matter how loudly Ron or Harry would argue that they could handle themselves just fine, thank you very much). 

“Ms. Granger, are you okay?” Hermione looked up from her parchment to see Professor Grayson staring at her, his eyes reminding Hermione of Professor Lupin’s. Lonely, filled with kindness, but weighed with a heavy burden that he didn’t want to share with anyone. 

Hermione looked away before settling to stare him in the eyes again.

“I’m fine, Professor Grayson. Thank you,” Hermione responded with a respectful tilt of her head. Grayson nodded, keeping a careful eye on her as he moved down the row, asking each student for their name. He checked off his list, humming to himself. 

“Professor, what...exactly are you doing?” Harry raised his hand, eyebrow raised as Grayson scribbled something on his parchment with...a ballpoint pen? 

“I’m making a seating chart. Teachers make seating charts, right?” Grayson spoke aloud, many Slytherin snickering at the stupid rhetorical question. 

“Oh,” Harry put his hand down and Hermione bit at her bottom lip, wondering why she was so unprepared for this class. It was like DADA minus the wands, right? They should be fine. 

Hopefully. 

“So! Everyone seems to be here. I hope. I mean, I understand the need to skip class - I was a student once upon a time too - but this is a magic school! You’d have so much fun! Anyways, can I have everyone stand up and drag their chairs and tables towards the walls. Yes, like that. Thank you!” Slytherins and Gryffindors alike looked confused as they moved the requested items, the Slytherins looking more reluctant to listen to a “ _ disgusting Muggle _ ”. 

Grayson ducked behind his desk, remerging with mats. He plopped them on top of the stone flooring, spreading them out until the mats covered the center of the room.

“Today,” Grayson started as he beamed proudly at his make-shift area of training, “you are going to learn to fall.” 

Silence met his exclamation. 

“Uh...what?” Ron broke the heavy silence. 

“You are going to learn to fall properly. You, uh, Longbottom. Come here please.” Grayson motioned for Neville to move towards the center of the mats, where he stood. Neville flushed and shuffled over. Grayson shook his head and the boy paled. 

“Take off the robe and the shoes. Roll your shirt sleeves up. Same with your pants. Good! Okay! Now Longbottom - oh, okay, Neville then - face the class. Have your back to me.” Grayson turned Neville to face the class, many intrigued, bored, or amused expressions meeting Neville’s nervous eyes. Grayson leaned closer to Neville, grabbing his arms. 

“Tuck your chin to your chest. Good. Now, cross your arms across your chest. Yep, just like that! Great! Now! Try to keep this pose, okay?” Dick quickly swept his leg forward, kicking Neville in the heel of his foot. Neville gave a squeal and fell backwards, his head snapping back and his arms flailing in front of him. Grayson grabbed him and steadied him, shaking his head. 

Slytherin students snickered. Grayson’s eyes zeroed in on them. 

“You, uh - Malfoy. Com’ere. Neville, stand right there. Okay Mr. Malfoy, do the exact same thing Neville was doing. Chin tucked, arms crossed.” Draco stood there stiff, eyes flinting to the expectant faces of the Gryffindors and the slightly bemused expressions of the Slytherins.

Dick kicked his foot out, easily knocking Draco backwards. Like Neville, Draco broke the pose and Dick stopped his descent.

“See what happened?” Dick asked the class. No one spoke.

“Does anyone understand what I’m trying to show?” Dick asked and Hermione’s hand shot up. Dick pointed at her. 

“How they panic when they fall?” The bushy haired girl asked. Dick smiled slightly. 

“Yes ma’am! When they began to fall, they panicked. This isn’t good. This can lead to serious injures. I’m going to show you what a proper fall is supposed to look like.” Dick led Draco out of the way before moving to show his side off to the students. He fell backwards, his chin tucked, arms crossed, and knees bending as he got closer to the ground. As he reached the ground, his arms flew out and slapped against the mat, making a echoing CLAP sound. The entire time, his chin was tucked to his chest. 

“I slapped the mat to shift all the force of the impact onto my hands. The most that will happen then is some slight stinging. This way, you won’t get the wind knocked out of you if you were suddenly thrown backwards. Also, I kept my chin tucked the entire time. Your neck can be fractured quite easily doing something like this without the proper practices. Not tucking your chin in could also lead to head injuries. Now, do you two boys want to try again?” Dick turned to the two boys standing beside him. 

The class watched on and Hermione felt something close to impatience bubbling in her chest as she waited for the chance to try.

 

* * *

 

 

By lunch, the school was buzzing about the new Muggle Defense class. Slytherins made it seem pointless while Gryffindors commented that it was rather fun. Ravenclaw students that got the chance to take the class, said it was extremely intriguing. 

Hufflepuff, however, were silent with the chattering started. The poor House could only stare at Damian, who was pushing peas around on his plate.

“How’d you first years like your classes so far?” A third year questioned, eyebrow raised at the solemn looks on their faces.

“Damian,” Aaron answered as he not so subtly put a piece of chocolate on Damian’s plate, “almost got detention with Professor Snape. Thankfully the man only took a few points.” The older years stared in mute astonishment at the mention of the boy getting away without detention. Severus Snape handed detentions out like he breathed.

“What happened?” A seventh year asked, leaning towards the redhead. 

“Well…” Aaron cast a look at Damian. “It went like this.”

 

* * *

 

 

Damian wrinkled his nose as him and his new...companion, Aaron, walked into the dungeon. Potions. He was learning to make potions. If they were anything like then Damian had nothing to worry about. He learned more in the League of Assassins then how to stab someone violently, y’know. 

“Sit down and be silent,” Snape snapped the moment he walked into the dungeon. The Hufflepuffs quickly shut their mouths while the Ravenclaws scrambled to get their books out.

Snape eyed the eager-to-learn class with some sort of refreshed disdain. Damian narrowed his eyes at the beady-eyed man who seemed to sneer at anything that so much as existed.

“This is Potions,” Snape spoke in a clipped tone, “not culinary. Do not expect this class to be easy, do not expect it to be anything less than mentally demanding. You hold the ingredients to heal or hinder a person. You must be very, very careful when dealing with potions.” As Snape continued to drone on and on, Damian could only observe the man.

Something about him. Something about him was familiar - almost homely. He narrowed his eyes as he caught Snape’s gaze and the boy stopped in his tracks. Oh. 

This man had killed many. This man had killed many and had enjoyed it. This man was everything that Damian, Dick,  _ Bruce _ , was against. Feared to become. Had almost chosen the path of (or continued on the path for Damian). He had seen death and inflicted it and had enjoyed it without a hint of remorse. Without a sliver of mourning.

Until he did.

Damian broke eye-contact, facing his table-top. He hated being able to vaguely read people (moreso those who shared similar experiences to him and his family).

“Is there a problem, Mr. Wayne?” Snape asked, eye looking like molten darkness. Damian wondered why he was suddenly angry?

“No,” Damian answered back.

“No what?” Snape gritted, looking so guarded and furious that Damian wondered what he did. He didn’t do anything.

“No,” Damian responded.

“Ten points from Hufflepuff for ill-behavior towards a Professor,” Snape snarled and Damian merely raised an eyebrow.

 

* * *

 

 

“You’ve gotta be more respectful, mate. Especially to Professor Snape. He takes points like no one else,” a fourth year commented after Aaron finished the story.

Damian just grunted and stabbed at his plate. 


	4. Get The Ball Rolling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The characters in this chapter are going to be out of character. It had to be done to get a certain plot point moving. Please bear with it.

The sun had yet to peek up through the cracks of the Forbidden Forest. The sky was a dark purple color, tiny swirls of blue and navy coiling around the stares as small streaks of red and orange began to drag across the encompassing nighttime sky. 

 

Damian leaned against a tree trunk in the center of one of the courtyards, bleary eyes peering at Dick as the man walked around the ground on his hands. 

 

“So, how are you doing? Making friends? I saw that one boy who’s been by your side,” Dick spoke, stretching his legs to go straight out, making him look like a T. 

 

“Peterson is tolerable. He reminds me of Drake, though. Always sticking close like a bug.” Damian scrunched up his nose. Dick gave a snicker. 

 

“Be nice. I think it’s good you’re being sociable! What’s this I hear, huh, about you picking fights?” Dick rolled his shoulders, pressing his stomach to the ground as he stretched his legs out in front of him, posture looking uncomfortable to any observers. 

 

“Nothing,” Damian spoke quickly. Dick pushed himself up with his arms, twisting his legs up and over his head to bend his back like a bridge. Damian stiffened, eyes wary as Dick began to upside-down crab walk towards him. 

 

“GRAYSON!” Damian growled as he shot off the ground and into the tree, clinging to the branches. “You know I hate when you do that stupid thing!” Damian glared down at the man who plopped down onto the ground with a bark of laughter, grinning up at his younger brother. 

 

After a movie night where Jason got to pick  _ The Grudge _ , Damian was more or less mentally and emotionally scarred about seeing people do the crab walk. 

 

“Seriously though, Dami. What’s up? You usually aren’t so quick to...wait, nevermind.” Dick moved a hand to brush his bangs out of his face and Damian frowned as he hopped out of the tree, landing in a silent crouch beside Dick. He sat down, staring at his feet. 

 

“I...I was startled,” Damian began in a quiet voice as if he were trying to keep it a secret. “Hufflepuff is for the kind. The loyal. The hard working. I...I…” He seemed to struggle with his words. 

 

Dick sat up as well, hand reaching to ruffle Damian’s hair. 

 

“Yeah,” Dick spoke as he used Damian’s head as an anchor to push himself up. Damian grunted. “Isn’t it perfect for you?” With a parting smile, Dick left to go shower and left Damian sitting there, eyes slightly wide and lips parted. 

 

* * *

 

“Good morning class!” Dick chirped as he leaned back against his desk, all the other chairs and desk pushed up against the walls and floor mats already spread out. The students, learning from their first class, had changed from their robes and uniforms for gym shorts and t-shirts for better mobility.

 

Aaron, practically vibrating next to Damian, looked excited to be in the class. Damian looked bored, eyes moving around the room and noting the subtle signs of tampering with the classroom. Unlike the other classrooms where everything seemed to be cluttered and hard to move through with the tight space, Dick’s classroom was open and spacious, giving easy access for students to wander about and evacuate if needed. Damian nodded to himself, approving the safety precaution. 

 

“So last class, I taught you guys how to break a fall properly,” Dick began as he stretched his arm behind his back, allowing his arm muscles to stretch and the hormonal pre-teens to oogle shamelessly. “Today, you will be learning some about my prefered fighting style, Aikido!” 

 

Damian wordlessly raised an eyebrow as he lingered in the back of the classroom, mentally going over everything he knew about Aikido. From what he knew, Aikido basically consisted of entering and turning movements that redirect the momentum of an opponent’s attack, and a throw or joint lock that terminates the other’s attack. In other words, you use the opponent’s attack against them by shifting or throwing off their momentum or weight. Damian’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully before considering it. 

 

Witches and Wizards depended on their wands so pathetically, that Damian was beyond shocked when he learned that the Dark Wizards over the centuries didn’t just learn martial arts and render people useless by physical force. But no. Even these powerful Dark Wizards and Witches seemed to think that they had to fight magic with magic and not brute force. He tilted his head to the side at that. The only two heroes he knew with magic were from Bruce’s list of heroes, Zatara and Zatana. He also knew that both, from seeing clips of them in combat, knew how to throw a punch or take a villain down with a roundhouse kick or two. Therefore, it had caught him by surprise when he learned that the magic users of this world didn’t use physical combat in battles. No, instead they flung their wand and hoped for the best. 

 

It angered him so much. 

 

Damian zoned back into the classroom when Dick clapped his hands. 

 

“Alright then, let’s begin. Aikido is a Japanese martial arts technique that basically uses your opponent’s own momentum or body weight against them to knock them off balance and send immobilize them. Hm...Peterson! Come here!” Dick called, eyes landing on Aaron who jumped and scurried up to the teacher, looking both anxious and overjoyed at the same time. 

 

“One principle of Aikido that is universally understood and taken to heart no matter the variations or interpretations of this fighting style is simple: render them immobile. This technique allows you to have concern for your opponent’s well being. You don’t ever want to use it with the intention of harming the opponent. Just get the down for enough time to either use a spell or something else to disable them.”

 

Patting Aaron on the shoulder, Dick turned his attention to the student. 

 

“Practice your break fall,” Dick instructed and Aaron complied, doing so. Dick nodded in approval and instructed him to do so again. After about three falls and a few arm and leg stretches, Dick stopped him. 

 

“Come at me,” Dick instructed and Aaron blinked, many other students copying the action. 

 

“Uh, pardon Professor?” Aaron asked, shifting his footing. Damian rolled his eyes from his spot near the door, arms crossed as he observed the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. The Hufflepuffs looked nervous while the Ravenclaws looked eager to try and devour the knowledge they were about to be presented with. 

 

A high pitched squeal made Damian turn his attention to Aaron, who was on his back and Dick was towering over him, giving a amused smile. 

 

“Wanna try again?” Dick asked as he helped lift Aaron to his feet. Aaron gave a huff as a smile split across his face. 

 

“Yes please!” Aaron chirped and Damian watched how the boy threw a punch, only to have Dick’s arms wrap about said arm and shoulder, one leg wedging itself between the boy’s feet and twisting, hauling him off the ground and landing him on his back with a squeak. 

 

“Who wants to try next? I want you all to get a try and to see how it feels to be counterattacked like this. After you understand the basics of what I am going to be teaching you, then we can actually begin with you using these moves. But remember.” Dick’s voice went low and serious, his tone tight and expression empty of any playfulness. The students froze in their places while Damian shifted his footing subtly. Whether he realized it or not, Dick sometimes slipped into his  _ Batman Voice  _ when he wanted his point to get across. It was creepy and made Damian frown at how unpleasant the man seemed to suddenly become. 

 

“Never use these moves on another student outside this classroom. There is a time and a place to fight and the hallways or against a silly House rival is not it. If I find out any of you are going against this rule, you will find that I may be more unforgiving than Professor Snape.” The first years’ jaws dropped at that declaration. Already, they knew that Professor Snape was a bat. For this nice, bright professor to say he’d be worse…

 

“Now then,” and suddenly the easy smile was back and the students relaxed. “Who’s next?” 

 

Damian felt like this was going to be a long class period. 

 

* * *

 

“Huh,” Damian huffed as he stared at the book just out of his reach. “Why do they insist on making bookshelves so tall?” Damian looked left, right. No one. He jumped, planting his feet on one of the shelves and climbed two shelves up to grab the book. He hopped down, turning only to jump when he saw a blonde girl standing there.

 

“You know,” the girl spoke, her voice airy and reminding Damian on Harley Quinn’s when she was talking about the Joker, “the books are enchanted to come to you. The only reason yours didn’t was because the Nargles were keeping it from you.” Damian stared, unable to understand what to say to her. 

 

“Nargles?” Damian asked, finally getting his brain to work. He was cautious, as you should be when dealing with someone who acted like a well known villain of his home. The blonde girl merely smiled, pointing towards where the book would have been. 

 

“Nargles. They are mischievous thieves. They wanted to steal that book you wanted. They’re very rude,” the girl spoke. 

 

“Oh,” was all Damian said back. 

 

“Luna! There you are. Let’s go, we’re going to be late for Herbology!” A Asian girl popped up, giving Damian a once-over before tugging the blonde, Luna, away. 

 

“Weirdo,” Damian mumbled under his breath and found a table, plopping his books down. He sat down and flipped open the cover of one of the many history books he had picked up, ready to find out all he could about Hogwarts and the Magical World in general. 

 

“Well,” a voice droned from behind Damian and his grip on his book tightened, counting backwards from ten as a young teenager stepped in front of his table, staring down at him from his nose. “Looks like you should have been in Ravenclaw instead.” 

 

Blonde, pompous air, the type that smelt of old money. Damian had encountered many who seemed to fit the profile the blonde was trying to portray, except they didn’t have to try to act. The child, however, as merely copying imitations he probably saw from his father. Pathetic. 

 

“Leave,” Damian spoke, going back to his book. “Go bother someone else.” 

 

“Excuse me?” The boy leaned heavily on the table and glared down at Damian, who looked away from the inked pages to stare at the annoying boy, bored. “Do you know who you are talking to?” 

 

Oh, Damian wanted to bash the kid’s head in with his book. 

 

“No, and I really don’t care. Get out of my face before I decide to use this book as a weapon,” Damian hissed and the blonde teen stiffened before tugging his robes down, sniffing disdainfully at the younger child.

 

“I was going to grace you with the great Malfoy’s presence, since you’re nothing but a worthless mudblood, but I guess my good deeds have gone to waste.” 

 

What did he just say about Damian’s blood? 

 

In an instant, Damian was over the table, book forgotten, and on top of the teen, hands fisting his robe and shaking him violently.

 

“I don’t care who the fuck you are,” Damian snarled as the older boy whimpered. The clustered students watched in startled silence, a woman quickly getting up from the front desk to hurry over. “And I don’t care what the fuck you came to talk to me about. But don’t you  _ dare  _ say my blood is dirty. Don’t you even utter any sort of implication that my blood or family is dirty or soiled or  _ wrong _ . I will rip your intestines out and string them around your neck like a noose before throwing you out of the Astronomy Tower where you will break every pathetically fragile bone in your body and die as a pathetic, sad, disgusting child.” 

 

The Malfoy boy looked almost transparent with how pale he went.

 

“Wh-when my fath-father hears about this,” The boy stammered. Damian gave a smirk that would make his grandfather proud. 

 

“Oh please, tell your father. I would love for your father to hear about this. Then he can meet  _ my  _ father,” Damian spat as he felt someone tug him backwards by the back of his robes. He snapped a leg back, only to jerk his head up as his leg was caught. Dick stood there, frowning in the way he only did when Damian would get into a fight with Tim. 

 

“Mr. Malfoy, I hope my vicious charge didn’t do anything too bruising to you. Damian, detention with me after dinner. Same for you, Mr. Malfoy. Detention for the both of you. My classroom after dinner. Sorry madam, we didn’t mean to cause a disturbance in the library!” Dick gave a charming smile to Madam Pince, who glared daggers. 

 

All but throwing the seething child over his shoulder, Dick exited the library and walked down the hall, heading for his classroom. 

 

Once inside the empty room, Dick set Damian down, who instantly went on the defense, arms crossed and eyes never meeting Dick’s. Dick sat down at his desk, looking expectantly at Damian. 

 

“Damian,” Dick spoke softly. “What happened?” 

 

“He called me a mudblood,” Damian spat, glaring up at Dick. “I don’t know what that means but I know it’s an insult! I know he’s insulting me and what I am and  _ who  _ I am and  _ no one  _ can do that! No one can insult my blood or my family or-!” Damian cut off, turning his head away from Dick. Dick moved silently, kneeling down in front of Damian. 

 

“Damian,” Dick began in that quiet tone that everyone had labeled his ‘parent’ voice. “What he did was wrong. He shouldn’t have insulted you like that. He had no right. But you can’t go around attacking people because they insult you. I know you think family is important and I really think that’s amazing, but you can’t threaten to kill someone the moment they say something bad about us.” Dick brushed some of Damian’s hair out of his face. 

 

“I am the child of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul,” Damian growled. “There is nothing dirty about me.” Dick patted his head and stood up, giving a comforting smile. 

 

“Nope, nothing dirty. If you’re considered dirty, what am I considered then?” Dick laughed and Damian’s eyes snapped to Dick’s face. Dick gave another hair ruffle and ushered the child to the door. 

 

“See you for detention after dinner!” Dick waved and Damian was left outside the classroom, staring at the stone flooring. 

 

* * *

 

By lunch, everyone knew about the fight between Draco Malfoy and Damian Wayne. Of course, the story had been exaggerated by the time it got back to Damian’s ears and he could only raise a eyebrow when he heard it. 

 

“I didn’t shove my hand in his stomach,” Damian commented to Aaron after the boy retold the tale, “and I certainly didn’t bite his cheek off. Been there, done that, it isn’t as pleasant as people make it out to be.” Aaron stopped shoveling food into his mouth, looking at Damian for a second. 

 

“What?” Aaron asked and Damian rolled his eyes, stabbing a piece of cucumber from his salad. 

 

“What?” Damian echoed back and the two first years stared at each other before turning back to their meals. 

 

“He insulted my blood and my family,” Damian explained after a beat of silence between the two. “I couldn’t allow that to happen.” A few older Hufflepuffs listening in gave secret smiles of approval while Aaron gave a wide grin. 

 

“Well, good job scaring Malfoy. He’s a prat,” one of the fourth years spoke up. “Sucks you got detention though.” 

 

“Knowing Grayson,” Damian spoke as he stabbed at his salad. “He’ll probably just try and make us get along.”

 

Up at the Professor Table, Snape and Moody were questioning Dick. 

 

“So you gave them both detention even though it was your young charge who attacked Mr. Malfoy?” Snape sneered. 

 

“Yep,” Dick nodded. “Malfoy started it. He called Damian a mudblood or something and, well, family and blood is a touchy subject for Dami. They were both at fault so they both get punished.” Dick took a bite of his mashed potatoes. 

 

“Malfoy needs to be put in his place,” Moody agreed with a nod. McGonagall huffed into her goblet. Dick frowned. 

 

“It isn’t about putting him  _ in his place _ . He was wrong, he needs to see it. It looked like he was never properly raised on how to treat others,” Dick explained. 

 

“Wizards and Muggles are raised differently, Mr. Grayson. Pureblood Wizards are the back-bone of this world. From what I understand, aren’t you connected to that rich Muggle, Bruce Wayne?” Moody asked as he set down his own goblet. 

 

“Hm. So basically the Purebloods are the Old Blood, huh?” Dick mumbled to himself. “Bruce may be rich, but he was raised to not see himself superior based on who his parents were or how much money and power he had. Malfoy, on the other hand, seems to think he can do what he wants based on who his father is.”

 

“Lucius Malfoy is a very influential man in the Ministry. He holds the title of the Old Malfoy family. Blood means everything to Wizards and Witches, Mr. Grayson,” McGonagall cut in, looking less than please to contribute. 

 

“If so, then why is young Malfoy insulting people by their blood? It seems like if magic-users take blood seriously, there should be no discrimination. Then again, you’ll always have that.” Dick mused as he tapped his fork to his bottom lip. 

 

“Good luck thinking you can teach Draco anything new. He’s as stubborn as his father in that aspect,” Snape grumbled into his goblet. Dick traded a smile. 

 

“We’ll see,” he hummed. 

 

* * *

 

Draco looked from Dick to Damian before back to Dick. 

 

“So what is our punishment, sir?” Draco asked, back stiff and shoulders square. Dick leaned back against his desk, giving a relaxed grin. 

 

“I want you two to have play a little game,” Dick explained and both boys stared blankly at him. 

 

“A game, Grayson?” Damian asked, eyebrow raising. Dick grinned and patted the hand weights settled on the desk next to him. 

 

“A game,” the man echoed. “You both will go stand against holding these weights and play a game. I’ll monitor it and, if I feel like it, ask a question to either of you during any point of the game. Sit down.” Both boys hesitated before trudging over to grab their weights, moving to opposite walls and holding the objects. Draco looked uncomfortable and confused at the weights while Damian merely grunted at the whole idea. 

 

“Now, the rules are simple. I will say a word. I want you two to tell me the first thing that pops into your head once you hear the word. Okay?” Dick asked as he scooted up onto his desk, swinging his legs. 

 

“This sounds stupid,” Damian stated and Draco’s lips twitched in agreement. 

 

“Shush. Okay, let’s start. First word: family,” Dick began. 

 

“Everything,” Draco spoke up first, looking slightly started at speaking out loud. 

 

“Broken,” Damian spoke out grudgingly. Dick smiled softly. 

 

“Black,” Dick spoke. 

 

“Dark,” Draco answered. 

 

“Comfort,” Damian spoke up, mind flashing to the darkness of the Batcave. Draco gave him a weird look. 

 

“Blood,” Dick tested. Draco and Damian both stiffened before Draco sneered. 

“Pure,” he spoke hotly. 

 

“Clean,” Damian sneered back. Draco scoffed, knowing he’d have been smacked if he’d done so in the presence of his parents. 

 

“As if a mudblood like you would have clean blood,” Draco snapped. Damian gave a growl and Dick clucked his tongue. 

 

“Draco, hold both arms out in front of you and keep them straight. Count to thirty. Do not lower or bend your arms or I’ll increase the time,” Dick spoke up and Draco, after a moment of just glaring at the man, did as he was told. After about ten seconds, the boy’s arms were trembling. 

 

“Why do you think Damian is a mudblood?” Dick asked as he watched the teenager strain. 

 

“Because he is! He isn’t a pureblood! He’s tainting the good blood of wizards and witches,” Draco grunted. 

 

“Why?” Dick asked. Draco looked caught off-guard by the question. 

 

“What do you mean ‘why’?” Draco asked as he lowered his arms with a sigh. 

 

“Why do you think he’s tainting the ‘good blood’ as you put it? Aren’t you both able to use magic? Aren’t you both human?” Dick asked and Draco’s nose scrunched up. 

 

“Purebloods are the superior of the Wizarding World. Saying we’re the same because we’re human is like saying we’re the same as  _ muggles _ ,” Draco gagged. 

 

“Aren’t you?” Dick asked, curious. Draco gave him another odd stare. 

 

“Of course not. Muggles are pathetic humans who die too easily and are a waste of space compared to Magic,” Draco responded, sounding like he was reciting something. Most likely his father’s own ideals. 

 

“I’m a muggle,” Dick spoke and leant forward on his desk, elbows on his knees, “and I’m probably more than capable of taking down a powerful Wizard or Witch.” Draco scoffed again and Damian gritted his teeth. 

 

“Did you know,” Dick hummed, “that there are men from space who can fly and men who can run at the speed of light and females who are Gods amongst humans? Did you know that there is a King of all Water who can control the creatures of the Sea and Gods who live daily lives as simple people? Did you know that, if you compare your Purebloods or any powerful Wizard or Witch to these impossible people, it’s be like comparing an ant to a shoe?” Dick looked at Draco, who looked to be struggling with the man’s words. 

 

“What?” Draco whispered. 

 

“There are beings, known as aliens, who are basically people from space. There is a few very well known aliens living on Earth. Superman, Martian Manhunter, Miss Martian, a whole bunch of them. There is a man, known of Flash, who could get from America to here in less than three seconds, all from running? There is a woman who can easily lift more than fifty men put together, all without anything but the blessings of her Gods?” Dick was silent for a moment before he got off the desk, moving to bend down slightly in front of Draco, who pushed himself into the wall. 

 

“Draco, I am telling you these things because I was you to understand that there is more to the world than magic and Purebloods. There is an entirely different world out there that you have no clue about. I need you to understand that you need to open your mind a little bit. Learn to accept differences, no matter if they don’t fit your ideals.” Dick stood straight and nodded. 

 

“Both of you, lift your arms out straight for one minute. I’ll keep count.” Dick moved back to his desk and both boys complied, Draco’s brain overloading while Damian just stared blankly at Dick. 

 

* * *

 

_ Dear Father,  _

 

_ I got into a slight altercation with a mudblood Hufflepuff first year today. He attacked me for no reason. I served detention with the muggle professor, Grayson. He told me things, Father. He told me things of men who can fly and run and females with great strength and that they all do so without the use of magic or wands.  _

 

_ Father, there are things out there that we do not know of.  _

 

_ I thought you’d like to know.  _

 

_ Your loving son, Draco.  _

 

* * *

 

_ Draco,  _

 

_ I do hope your altercation didn’t sully the good Malfoy name. Your mother is very upset with you and wants me to tell you that she hopes you weren’t hurt.  _

 

_ Your information intrigues me and I will do my best to look into it. Thank you for informing me of these...rather interesting mentions.  _

 

_ Hold pride in your name,  _

 

_ Lucius.  _

 

* * *

 

_ Mr. Malfoy,  _

 

_ It has recently come to my attention that you, a well-known Pureblood Wizard, are breaching your idealistic code to search for information pertaining certain individuals. I have many great sources that can confirm your curiosity and would like to extend a helping hand in educating you.  _

 

_ You may question why I am writing with the subject of helping you. I merely find that the man you’ve chosen to serve shares a rather...similar goal as I do. Though we want different things out of it, our base goal is the same. Therefore, I don’t see a reason as to why I shouldn’t help you.  _

 

_ You never know. It may just lead to many new possibilities.  _

 

_ I await your response,  _

 

_ Ra’s al Ghul _

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-write of my fanfic under the same name on FF.net. This one will hopefully be better paced and make more sense.


End file.
